Guilty
by Darcy Lovette
Summary: Blaine Anderson killed his father, and has been sentenced to twelve years in prison. He meets Kurt Hummel, his cell mate, and instantly falls in love. However, Kurt is property of top dog Sebastian Smythe, who could have them murdered with the snap of his fingers. Blaine has to stay away from Sebastian's favorite toy, but how can he when Kurt confesses that he loves him too...
1. Chapter One

Guilty. _Guilty_. _**Guilty**__._

Blaine Anderson had killed his father.

He was cold. His cell was cold, his body was cold, and his blood ran colder with every bang, footstep and murmur he heard through the darkness. Never had Blaine experienced fear like this; afraid of tomorrow, afraid of next week, more and more frightened with every passing second. He couldn't shut his eyes for more then a few seconds, plagued by visions of someone… something coming to get him. Blaine may have had a few muscles, but he was small. They were going to eat him alive, he knew it.

Just as sleep was slowly starting to pull Blaine under, a blood curdling, agonising scream from several cells down jolted him awake again. He pulled the paper-thin quilt up to his neck, shaking but no longer from the cold. He glanced over through the bars as a couple of guards were dragging away the man who screamed. Blaine didn't know if he was unconscious or dead, but he could smell the blood…

Forget twelve years, he wasn't going to last the day…

Blaine didn't know what time he eventually fell asleep, but next thing he knew morning had arrived, and a loud, shrill alarm was blasting in his ears, snapping him out of his sleepy haze. He blinked until his vision cleared… and remembered where he was. It was like a hand was grasping his heart, gripping it stopping it pumping. No… no, no, please no… not now… not now. Blaine stared desperately around his cell; there must be just one way out… a hidden tunnel? Hiding under the bed? Anything, but he couldn't go out there…

"… New, huh?" a voice questioned. Blaine all but screamed. Another guy was sat across from him, looking calm and relaxed, sporting the bed-head look.

"… I…" Blaine stared at him, taken aback by both his presence and his smooth exterior, despite the great gash across his forehead. He was smiling softly, his posture at ease, his bright blue eyes kind and gentle.

"Oh, made you jump did I?" he laughed, "Sorry. I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel. Your new cellmate." He stood and offered Blaine his hand, which Blaine shook.

"Hey, I'm, er… Blaine. I'm Blaine." Blaine stammered, suddenly feeling very self conscious. He tried to smooth his hair down, but without his hair gel it was a battle he'd never win.

Kurt tilted his head to the side, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem like the kind of guy who requires a little gel?" Blaine blinked, could he read his mind?

"Well… yeah." Blaine sighed, gaze dropping to the floor.

"Don't worry about it," Kurt smiled, "the lack of hair product has taken a much worse effect on others. Ever seen a girl with her roots showing?" Blaine nodded, "Well imagine a guy with blonde ends, with brown roots reaching down to his ears." They both laughed.

"Wow…" Blaine shook his head, feeling a little more at ease. There was something about Kurt's relaxed exterior and light smile which just… melted away his previous worries. A long beep sounded, and the bars moved aside, allowing access out of the cells. Blaine looked up as prisoners in orange jumpsuits passed his cell (many with shaved heads, bulging muscles, tattoos etc) and the crushing fear made a reappearance. He looked to Kurt, his face the picture of terror, desperate for some comfort or… anything.

Kurt's smile faded a little, he edged a little closer to Blaine, "Now listen to me, don't make eye contact. Don't look at anyone, don't talk to anyone, and don't touch anyone. Don't draw attention to yourself, be invisible. Eat quickly, and meet me in the exercise yard, okay? I know a little spot behind the equipment shed, you'll know it when you see it." and before Blaine could respond, Kurt jumped up and hurried off, disappearing into the sea of prisoners.

Blaine stayed on his bed, waiting patiently for the small corridor was clear. Eventually, the crowd thinned out and cleared. He considered waiting just a few more minutes, when a burley looking guard banged on the bars, "Oi! Get up!" he shouted, and Blaine scurried out. The corridor was as dull and cold as the cell, and seemed to stretch on forever with endless cells. Blaine took small, shakey steps down the corridor, head down. He felt like he was walking to the gallows.

Eventually, he reached a large door, which was heavy and took a lot of effort to push open. He stepped inside and found himself in a large hall, filled with wooden tables and plastic chairs upon which sat hundreds of prisoners, all eating and talking and arguing and spitting and arm wrestling. Just as Blaine was scanning the room for Kurt, the door slammed shut behind him, the loud bang echoed throughout the whole room. Silence fell and every head turned to look at Blaine, their expressions unreadable. Blaine was frozen, he could feel his face burning and his hands shaking. So much for 'not drawing attention to himself' and 'being invisible'. Blaine spotted the line for the food amongst the sea of prisoners, and slowly made his way towards it, every eye in the room fixed on him. He reached the line, and the other prisoners turned away, the room returning to normal. No one in the line looked at Blaine; they simply pretended he wasn't there. A few minutes later Blaine retrieved his measly breakfast (a bowl of porridge and two slices of bread) and moved over to an empty table. As he ate, he spotted Kurt on another table. The table was full, with eight people in total. Four of them were engaging in what seemed to be a very serious yet hilarious conversation, whilst the others (Kurt included) were sitting straight and silent. Kurt looked up and caught Blaine's eye, and Blaine smiled, giving him a little wave. Kurt's eyes widened, and his head gave a tiny shake, before his gaze dropped back to the table. Blaine blinked, confused. Was Kurt… embarrassed? Unbelievable! So what if he had made a really really really bad first impression on the entire prison, Kurt was his cellmate! Wasn't there some kind of prison code against this? Blaine slumped down, picking at his remaining slice of bread, feeling even worse then before.

Despite the fact he was in prison, Blaine couldn't help but marvel at how nice a day it was. The sky was a perfect blue, virtually cloudless, the sun beating down and heating up the sandy ground of the exercise yard. Kurt was right, the area behind the shed was empty, and Blaine was grateful for it. Since the fiasco at breakfast, he was keen to keep out of the way of the other prisoners. He enjoyed the privacy as he waited for Kurt, he sat down and leaned back against the shed, unzipping his jump suit and sliding out of the top half, so he was wearing only a gray tank top and the bottom half of the jump suit, tying the arms around his waist. He stretched out his legs, and proceeded to wait. A minute past. Then ten minutes past. Half an hour. Another half on hour. Kurt didn't show up. Blaine was getting a little upset, 'where is he? Did something happen?' but then… he realized. Kurt didn't want to go near him, he didn't want people associating them together for fear it'd ruin whatever prison cred he had. Blaine even got up and peaked behind the shed, and he saw Kurt. He was with the same group from breakfast, leaning against the prison wall as they watched a group of prisoners play basketball. One of the guys in the group had his arm around Kurt's shoulders, his fingers making lazy circles on Kurt's arm. Blaine felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, and then stabbed in the chest. Even though Kurt was sat ramrod straight with a completely neutral expression, he was allowing this guy to touch him in this way. Blaine couldn't bare it any longer, and turned away, tucking his legs up to his chest and hugging them. Why was he so upset? Was it because Kurt promised that he'd meet him here but instead wanted to hang out with his 'boyfriend'? Was it the fact that Kurt had a boyfriend? That Kurt lied? That Kurt didn't want to be seen with him? Blaine didn't know… but continued to question himself as the alarm sounded, signalling the end of exercise. He didn't see Kurt again for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter Two

At half nine that night, the prisoners were all escorted back to their cells, and for Blaine that time could not have come sooner. That day had been the worst of his life, and all he wanted to do was curl up into his lumpy, uncomfortable bed and escape into the temporary relief of sleep. It wasn't just the constant fear that someone who didn't like the look of him was going to jump him when his back was turned, or even the legend about prison showers which made that day so awful, but the crushing, eternal loneliness, with only his thoughts for company (as it turns out, when you're in jail and your only thoughts are 'I'm going to die that guy looked at me he's going to kill me I hate it here I hate it I want to go home but I can't twelve years guilty guilty guilty' then they aren't the best company).

Blaine removed his jump suit and climbed into bed in his boxers and tank top, covering himself with the weak blanket. He laid there, unmoving for several minutes, listening to the gentle hum of the prisoner's voices.

"Hey." Said a voice from behind him, who Blaine recognized as Kurt.

"… Hey." Blaine replied, without turning to face him. He heard Kurt sigh,

"Listen Blaine… I'm sorry. I really should have expl—"

"Explained? Oh, I get it…" Blaine snapped, "I get it, I'm the new guy, I've been in here two seconds and I've already fucked up. And if you'd rather hang out with your boyfriend, then who am I to-"

"Boyfriend?" Kurt was laughing. Confused, Blaine sat up and turned to him, finding him shaking his head, "That guy was not my boyfriend. In the real world I would not be seen dead with him."

"B-but…"

Kurt sighed and sat on Blaine's bed, Blaine noticed how he was so light the springs didn't make a sound, "Look… look at me, Blaine. I'm skinny, I'm small, and I'm just… weedy. I'm the kind of guy who'd get eaten alive in here, and I need protection. So… I'm a toy."

Blaine blinked, "huh?"

"The guy I was with, that's Sebastian. He's the top dog. The whole prison is afraid of him, even the guards let him get away with things that'd send normal prisoners to solitude. During my first week, I was in the showers. This guy… this huge Neanderthal snuck up behind me and… and pinned me to the wall…"

Blaine listened silently with wide eyes, his heart giving a lurch as he knew what was coming next.

"I knew what was about to happen, I'd been expecting it ever since I was given my sentence. But… this guy suddenly froze and backed off from me. I turned around and there was Sebastian, yelling at this guy who was twice his size. The guy ran off, he looked terrified. Before I could thank him… he grabbed me… and he… well…" he didn't have to say anything else, Blaine knew. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder or something, but he was scared to, like he'd break if he did. What could he say? Kurt took a deep breath and continued,

"The next day Sebastian came up to me, trapping me against the wall. He said… he said that people would continue to take advantage of me; he said that there was nothing I could do to stop them. But… Sebastian said that if I became his pet, and obeyed him, was loyal to him and let him have sex with me… then he'd make sure nobody in the prison would ever touch me again. So, I had a choice… let one guy have sex with me and be able to walk around prison with confidence that I'd never be attacked again, or… take my chances. I just… I had to trust him." Blaine watched him, noticing how small he suddenly was. His first impression of Kurt was a man who wasn't afraid, who was experienced and calm, independent and sophisticated. Now… he saw another side to him. He was just like Blaine. He was scared, he was completely alone, a lost little boy in a world of men. Blaine didn't judge him for allowing Sebastian to use him like this; he would have done the same. Kurt was silent, staring at the floor, clearly ashamed of himself. Blaine kept watching him, noticing everything. How soft his eyes were, despite their icy blue colour. His skin was smooth, in the moonlight it looked like silk. Blaine had to resist the urge to run his fingers along his arm, his cheek, the gentle crook of his neck. His lips… they were perfect. Just the right amount of thickness, the right size, and God did they look soft. They were pale, like the rest of his skin, and the moonlight made them look like soft, white rose petals. Blaine wanted to kiss them… he wanted to press his own chapped, rough lips against Kurt's, he wanted to hold Kurt by his slender waist and feel his long lashes against his cheek as he kissed his oh-so-soft-lips. Blaine wanted it so badly, more then his freedom. But he knew… he knew it, Kurt knew it… Kurt was forbidden. As far as the prison was concerned, Kurt belonged to Sebastian; only Sebastian could do things to Kurt that Blaine could only dream of. It made him angry, a white hot rage bubbled within him. How could this man, this awful, horrible rapist who thinks he can own a human being be allowed to touch and kiss someone as beautiful, soft and perfect as Kurt. It wasn't fair… it was wrong, it was disgusting. Blaine wanted to gather Kurt up in his arms, let him cry till the pain went away, and kiss his eyes when he was done. Then they'd lie down together on Blaine's bed, and for the next nine hours nothing would exist but them, holding each other in an embrace as the prison slept. But then the morning would come, it was inevitable. He wanted to take Kurt's hand and leap into the unknown sky, but eventually they would have to hit the earth. Blaine didn't voice any of this, he just stayed quiet, and he too dropped his gaze to the floor. He remembered the gash on Kurt's forehead… the screaming from last night…

"Kurt?" he whispered?

"Mhm?"

"… Who did you share a cell with before me?"

"… Sebastian."

"Did he hit you?"

Kurt sighed deeply, "yes. He was angry, the Warden had turned down his appeal, and he was furious. He took it out on me. As soon as we were locked in our cells, he grabbed me and… we had sex. It was angry and… and painful… just horrible. He… came too early and was furious with himself. He grabbed the crow bar from under his bed, I screamed and he hit me with it, hard, and the guards came running. They took me to the first aid room and stitched me up, then took me here; telling me this will be my cell from now on. I was expecting Sebastian to be furious with me, but he was mad at the guards. I couldn't understand it… I had screamed. I had broken one of his rules and they made me change cells. But he was calm; it didn't seam to have affected him at all."

Blaine had been listening in silence, but this didn't make sense, "He… wasn't angry?"

"I'm sure he is… this is the calm before the storm." He sighed, "An angry Sebastian is one thing… but a calm Sebastian, especially when he should be angry, is very, very dangerous."

They fell silent again, neither spoke, their gazes rested upon the cold floor. Nothing more needed to be said, but somehow they knew the conversation still wasn't over. Blaine realized something; Kurt just really wanted somebody to listen, somebody to confide in. Kurt may have Sebastian but that just made him lonelier, Blaine knew this feeling all too well. His presence was enough for Kurt, and Kurt's presence was enough for Blaine. Eventually, without another word, Kurt stood and moved to his bed, laying down in it and covering himself up. Blaine didn't feel tired, his mind was buzzing, his heart was aching and his blood was boiling. He hated this Sebastian guy, he hated him so much… Kurt was going to continue to be hurt, abused and raped by him, and there was nothing Blaine could do. Blaine watched over Kurt's sleeping form, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He was no longer concerned for his own safety, but for Kurt's. Kurt was so defenceless, and the thing that was supposed to protect him was the thing that was terrorizing him. Blaine continued to watch over him, scared for him, feeling like Sebastian or someone would come into the cell at any moment and get him. Maybe during the day there was nothing Blaine could do for him, but at night Blaine would make it his mission to protect him.

He had found a rose amongst a field of wild cattle, he refused to allow it to be


	3. Chapter Three

**Authors note: Oh my god, thank you all so much for your reviews! When I wrote the first chapter and published it, I kinda lost faith in it. I couldn't find the energy to keep writing and just didn't see the point. But as soon as I read all your lovely, amazing reviews I shot downstairs to write a new chapter. Thank you all so much! You are all amazing and I love you!**

Blaine didn't sleep that night. He was tired, his eyes itched and his body was aching for rest, but he refused to let sleep pull him under. For nine hours he sat ramrod straight on his bed, watching over the sleeping form of Kurt Hummel. He concentrated on the soft rise and fall of the other boy's breathing, and occasionally he'd glance out the barred window of their cell. He saw the sky change. From dark navy to a deep red to blood orange to being tinged with pink, and finally a light blue/green surrounded by dark clouds. The alarm sounded; he had managed to stay awake. He heard Kurt grunt slightly and saw him sit up, rubbing his eyes and blinking the sleep out of them. Blaine shook his head lightly, rubbing his eyes too, pretending he too had just woken up. What would Kurt say if he knew Blaine had stayed up all night watching him? Wait… was Kurt even gay?

Blaine had always known he was gay, before he even knew what sex was. He didn't know how but he just knew. Of course he kept it to himself, he wouldn't have dreamed of letting anybody know of his awful, terrible, sinful secret. Well, that's how he saw it, and all his family and friends. In the small town Blaine grew up in, being gay was bad, a sin, and a terrible lifestyle choice. But Blaine couldn't change, no matter how hard he tried. He had endless girlfriends, but he never felt anything for any of them. For him dating a girl felt like dating a sibling; he felt no attraction, no feelings, and it was just wrong. Guys on the other hand… He simply couldn't stop himself feeling this way, and eventually he grew to accept that he'd always be gay. He was gay and he could do nothing about it, and it was a secret he'd take to the grave. But… it was a secret too big to keep.

His parents hired a twenty something Pilipino man to help around the house. He was some kind of God sent from the Philippines, with toned muscles, perfect hair, delicious mocha skin and deep, coal black eyes. Blaine suspected his mother hired him as a bit of a treat for herself, and he could see why. Every time Blaine and him were in the room together Blaine felt… urges. Urges he'd managed to trample out of himself for eighteen years. He somehow managed to resist the temptation being dangled before him… for a while.

"Morning." Said Kurt cheerfully, giving Blaine a smile which filled him with a werid giddy feeling.

"Morning." Blaine couldn't match his cheerful tone, he felt like he'd ran a marathon in high heels. All he wanted to do was curl up in his cheap bed (which right now fell like a luscious water bed with plump pillows and a thick, feather soft duvet) and shut his eyes, melting into sleep. But the guards were banging on the bars, and the cell doors were springing into life. Blaine and Kurt pulled on their jumpsuits, Kurt spoke as they did,

"Look, I'll try my best to get behind the shed today. Sebastian normally lets me out on my own during the exercise hour, he likes to play basketball. He was mad yesterday, you see, didn't want me to leave. Today… I might be able to. But if I can't, I'm sorry."

Blaine nodded understandingly, "I got it. And it's cool, it's nice having a little privacy." He lied.

"Ah, you're a man who enjoys his solitude." Kurt smiled, "See you round, Blaine." Blaine swore Kurt gave him a little wink before he was lost in the sea of orange.

Blaine was feeling braver today, so he joined in the crowd a few seconds after Kurt, and to his surprise nobody seemed to notice him. It seemed the mistake at yesterday's breakfast had been forgotten. Well… he was in prison, he was sure something else must have happened to take their minds off him.

Blaine collected his meagre breakfast and was moving towards an empty table, when…

"Hey! Hey you, new guy!" called out a voice from behind him. Blaine stopped, his heart froze and his blood ran cold. Oh god… this was it. He was going to die."… Sit with us." … huh? Blaine spun around and came face to face with his murderer. Only, he didn't look like he was capable of murdering anybody. He looked kind of dorky, with glasses and an old fashioned haircut. He held out his hand to Blaine, "I'm Artie. And you must be…?"

"… O-oh, erm, I'm Blaine." Blaine stammered; he was going to live?

"Sit," Artie gestured to an empty chair on his table, which Blaine slowly sat down on, "right then, introductions," he sat down across from him, and pointed to the other members of the table, telling Blaine their names. There was a tall, well built Asian guy called Mike, another well built guy, but with blonde hair and thick lips called Sam, a very tall, kind of dopey looking guy called Finn, and a very well built, menacing looking guy with a shaven Mohawk called Puck.

"Nice to meet ya," Sam nodded, Blaine noticed a slight southern accent, "heard quite a bit about ya."

Blaine blinked, wait… what? "M-me? You must mean someone el-"

"Naw, you're Hummel's cellmate."

"… How did you kn-"

"Of course we know." Chipped in Mike, looking amused, "Everyone in the prison knows that Hummel swapped cells. Sebastian requested that Hummel shares with him, and since it's Sebastian they obliged. Couple of nights ago they hear a screaming from their cell, and Hummel's forehead has been slashed open." He shook his head, "poor guy."

"Don't feel too sorry for him." Said Puck, not looking up from his breakfast, "it's the lifestyle he chose. Nobody forced him to be Sebastian's bitch."

"Kurt might be a bitch, but he's no idiot." Mike replied, "Sebastian would have made his life a misery. You don't say no to Sebastian Smythe."

"Oh yeah?" Puck looked up, eyes challenging, "I recon I could take him on."

Blaine watched as their eyes widened, Artie's jaw dropped wide open, "Puck, don't say anything you'll regret!"

Puck scoffed, "You're all pussies. Look at this," he yanked up his sleeve and showed them all his muscles, "check out my guns. I could take Smythe on any day of the week. But, I have my appeal next week. I could get two years off my sentence! If it wasn't for that, I'd find Smythe, and I'd grab his stupid head, and I'd…" he made several violent gestures. Blaine, who was sat next to Puck, noticed how terrified the others looked. Their eyes were getting wider, their jaws were hanging wide open, all staring at him. Then Blaine realized why…

"Pardon me, Puckerman…" came a cold, smoky voice from behind them, "I missed most of that, what were you going to do to my head?" Blaine saw the colour drain from Puck's face, "what's that? Can't say it to my face?" Blaine looked behind him and got a second peak at Sebastian before Artie elbowed him, and he looked down again. His hair was perfectly styled, clearly he had access some kind of hair product. His eyes were cold and sharp, his face pointed, his smirk was pure evil. Nobody wanted to make eye contact with him. "Now, Puckerman, I'll give you five seconds to get out of my sight." Blaine expected Puck to scarper, but instead he stood up slowly, turning to face Sebastian, making strong eye contact. It lasted for a full second, before Puck walked away, head held high. Everyone on the table was gobsmacked, as if Puck had just stuck his head inside the mouth of a lion. Sebastian wasn't fazed by this, his smirk still intact. "Morning, children." He addressed the table, which responded with mumbles of 'hey Sebastian' or 'morning Sebastian'. "Now, I want to speak to the newby."

Before Blaine could respond, Sebastian's hand was on his shoulder and he was pulled to his feet, then steered away. Blaine could see that the whole prison had been watching them, all wearing similar expressions of pure shock. Blaine was pulled to the corner of the hall, his heart pounding in his ears. Now he knew… he knew why Sebastian hadn't punished Kurt for being moved. He was about to take it out on Blaine. As he stared into the steel grey eyes of Sebastian, who's smirk reminded him of a cat about to devour a mouse, he silently prepared himself for certain death.

"So… you're the guy sharing a cell with my little pet, are you?" Sebastian's voice was dangerously calm.

"Y-yes…" mumbled Blaine.

"I see." He paused. Suddenly, Sebastian raised his hand, and Blaine's eyes snapped shut, flinching away. He heard a snort, and opened his eyes a fraction. Sebastian was just fixing his hair, smirking wider, "My, you're a jumpy one. Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to talk, clear some things up." For some reason, this didn't make Blaine feel any better. "Kurt, is mine." Sebastian's voice dropped to a deadly whisper, his smirk faded, his eyes like daggers, "He. Is. Mine. Understand?" Blaine was frozen in terror, but gave a tiny nod, "Good. Now, just because you two are sharing a cell together, having little sleepovers every night does not mean that he stops being mine." Without warning, Sebastian's hand shot up again and attached itself to Blaine's neck, his iron grip holding him against the wall. Blaine couldn't gasp, his airways were being forced close. He could feel how hot his face was getting, hear the blood pounding against his ears. Sebastian's face was inches from his own, Blaine could smell his breath as it ghosted his face, "Oh, he's tempting, isn't he? Hard to resist…" he glared, as if daring Blaine to agree. Blaine couldn't make a sound, he was in agony, he felt like his windpipe was about to be crushed within Sebastian's grasp, "but you had better resist him. If I find you've touched him, tried to take him as your own and believe me… I will know… I… will… end… you." He held on for a few more moments, Blaine felt like his head was about to explode, like his neck was about to be crushed, his eyes bulging, until Sebastian let him go. Blaine breathed in noisily and deeply, trying to fill his lungs, empty them and fill them again as fast as possible. Sebastian smirked, satisfied, "Good talk." he said, before spinning around and heading off. The prison was staring at him, clearly they had been enjoying the show. Blaine spotted Kurt in the crowd. He was wearing a perfect poker face… other than his eyes. They were… he couldn't tell.

Blaine moved silently back to his table, and the room returned back to normal.

Which genius said breakfast was the best meal of the day?


	4. Chapter Four

Breakfast ended (eventually) and soon enough Blaine was waiting behind the equipment shed. He had no idea whether or not Kurt would come, but was afraid to get his hopes up. During the day, Kurt belonged to the prison. Since the shed was so close to the many fences concealing them within the prison, from where he was sat he could see the world outside it. So he sat there, waiting and not waiting for Kurt to come, watching the world he would be cut off from for twelve more years. There was a small forest about fifty yards from the prison gates, thick and seamed to stretch on and on and on.

'In twelve years time,' he thought to himself, 'when I walk out those prison doors for the final time, I'll run through that forest. I'll run through it and won't stop until I'm completely lost. I'm a murdered, an outcast in the real world. But… in that forest… I will be free. I'll build myself a little house in one of the trees, eat fruit and berries and drink rainwater. Just me… all alone. Completely free'.

It felt like a wonderful dream, but deep down he knew it was a stupid idea. Like the way a child dreams of going to Hogwarts, the way a teenage a teenage girl dreams of marrying a celebrity or the way a nerd dreams of travelling with the Doctor in his Tardis. It was nice to think about, and the more he thought about it the more he convinced himself that it would come true. But he knew that as soon as he was free he'd go to his bank, take out all his savings and just be able to afford a cheep apartment. He'd manage on the money for a few months, but he'd need to find work. Only nobody would hire him. People wanted 'hard working' and 'dependable' and 'friendly', not 'murderer' or 'convict' or 'guilty'.

He wondered about going back to his hometown, but he doubted he'd be welcomed back there. His father may have been a homophobic, arrogant asshole, but as far as his town was concerned he was practically a local hero. A man who served his community, managed to raise one son right he would go on to become a local celebrity, but was killed by his faggot son. Yes, he would be mourned. Blaine wouldn't be surprised if there was a golden statue of him in the park by the time he got out. He had never had desire to stay within that town; they would be more afraid and disgusted because he was gay then the fact he's a convicted murderer.

He could still remember the day he did it. He will always remember it, every second of it clear and vivid in his memory. The way his father's face drained of colour and his eyes widened when the knife went in… his mother's screams… the police sirens approaching them as everything started to go black…

"Blaine!" he was snapped out of this trance at the sound of his name, glancing up to find Kurt standing there, looking quietly concerned, "Blaine, are you… are you okay?"

"… Hmm? Oh, oh yeah, I'm okay. I-I'm okay…" Blaine stammered, shaking his mind clear. "You… you came?" he asked in dumb disbelief.

"Well yeah, I said I'd try." Kurt smiled, sitting down beside Blaine.

"I-I know… I just didn't think that… Sebastian would let you."

"I think he's done being mad. For now, anyway." Kurt sighed a little, Blaine noticed how Kurt was gazing through the fences and over to the forest, as if his eyes were scanning every single leaf. "Did you hurt you badly?"

"Who? Sebastian? Oh no… not really…" Blaine lied, even though his throat still felt like it was being squeezed tightly.

"Blaine… I can see the bruises." Kurt sighed.

"Wh-what?" Blaine's eyes went wide, his fingers touching his neck. He winced, pain emitting from where his fingers touched his neck. For all around his neck there were large, dark purple bruises, rather blotchy but unmistakably in the shape of a hand.

"Here, let me look." Kurt took Blaine's hand in his own, Blaine marvelled at how soft and warm his hand was and allowed Kurt to lower his own from his neck to his lap. Kurt's fingers then gently touched the flesh of Blaine's neck. Blaine hissed, expecting pain, but Kurt's touch was go soft, so gentle that he barely felt a thing. He kept his gaze ahead of him, but could see Kurt in the corner of his eye. He looked concerned, almost worried, "Oh Blaine… it looks so painful… I'm so sorry." He whispered.

"Y-yeah it is… just a little bit."

"Oh Blaine, don't feel you need to act brave in front of me." Kurt smiled and shook his head a little.

"I-I-I don't-"

"Shh." Kurt shushed him softly, still examining his neck with his feathery soft touch. God, Blaine just wanted him to press a little bit harder. Sure, it's hurt like hell, but he wanted it… he wanted to feel Kurt's fingertips against the pulse in his neck… He shut his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the gentle sensation of Kurt's touch. If his fingers were this soft, what must his lips be like? He became lost in the thought of Kurt's feathery soft, warm and lighter then air lips pressed against his neck. There was no pain, but Kurt's perfect lips pressed against the flesh of his neck, Kurt's eyelashes against his skin. Kurt's lips would tease his neck, his tongue would dart between his lips to taste his neck… then they would slowly begin to move upwards, brushing against his jaw line before coming to rest upon Blaine's awaiting lips…

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice awoke him again from his trance, Blaine's eyes snapped open.

"Y-yeah?"

"Sorry, you fell asleep."

_What_? "What?"

"Yeah, you've been asleep for ages. I didn't want to wake you, but we're about to go back in soon. Everyone in our section of the prison have community service." Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed, "Like raking leaves off of football pitches or picking up trash will make prisoners civil."

Blaine felt his heart sink. He had a whole hour to spend alone with Kurt, where they wouldn't have to worry about being overheard and he had slept through it! Inspite of the anger he was feeling, he pondered about what Kurt said. Make prisoners civil… was there really anything that could? He glanced at Kurt, taking in his soft perfection and gentle grace… how could a guy like this end up in prison this early in his life? He only looked about Blaine's age.

"… How come you're in jail?" Blaine asked, his curiosity too great to put off until that night.

Kurt paused, biting his bottom lip. Blaine could tell he was trying to find the right words, "… I was framed for attempted murder. I'm in jail, but I'm innocent." There was something about the tone of Kurt's voice and the firmness of the last word which told Blaine the conversation was over, and daren't ask any more questions. It made perfect sense to him. Kurt was gentle, kind and (in Blaine's view) perfect, he could never try to take the life of another human being. He wanted to keep talking, though, to find out everything about Kurt. Sebastian's words echoed in his mind, but he wasn't doing anything wrong, right? Simply… being curious. Besides, maybe Kurt was… straight. And if he was then there was no way he could like Blaine back and Sebastian would have nothing to worry about.

"Erm… Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you… well… do you like- I-I mean-"

"Yep. I like boys." Kurt gave a nod, turning to face Blaine, a smile played on his lips as he awaited a response.

"… Really?" Blaine felt both a stab of dread and a wave of joy.

"Really. Don't worry, I'm not going to jump you in the cell." Kurt chuckled. Blaine shook his head a little, only Kurt could make such a light comment about rape when he was subject to it almost everyday. Blaine figured Kurt would have to find some humour in it, otherwise it'd be unbearable. But despite the way he'd joke about it, or act like he doesn't mind, Blaine could just tell it was killing him inside. He felt like he was seeing into Kurt's soul every waking second. He could almost feel the pain radiating from the other boy, the fear, the self-loathing, regretting every decision he'd ever made. Blaine recognized all these feelings, as he too had felt them. He had been subject to all the feelings and all those thoughts. He could see them in Kurt's eyes; he had the same gloomy, tired eyes and the same well-practiced-and-convincing-but-still-fake smile that Blaine saw in himself whenever he'd look in the mirror. Blaine had gone through hell… but Kurt had gone through so much worse.

"What about you? What's your team?" Kurt asked, breaking Blaine's train of thought.

Blaine wanted to say 'straight', because that was he might be able to control himself better, but he simply couldn't lie to Kurt. It was like lying to one's mother.

"I'm… I'm gay. One hundred percent gay." He admitted, not meeting Kurt's gaze.

"Good to see you're so sure. Out?"

"… Yeah…. Though, not by choice."

"Want to talk about it?" Kurt asked. No, he didn't want to… because he'd have to tell Kurt the other event that happened on that day. Kurt was a good person, a good, wonderful, gentle person. He may be in here for attempted murder but he was innocent. Blaine was in for murder, and he was guilty. Would Kurt understand, or hate him? Then suddenly, he realized he had to tell him. He needed Kurt to hate him; it was the only way to protect himself and Kurt. Kurt needed to see him as a murderer and a beast; it was the only way… Blaine's heart sank lower; harsh reality was coming down on him hard. He turned to face Kurt; gentle, soft, beautiful, funny, clever, brave, perfect perfect Kurt. Kurt was looking at him calmly, blue eyes soft and smile curious. It was the last time he'd ever look at him in this way again. He didn't want to imagine the look of loathing and hate in Kurt's beautiful eyes, he'd have to prepare himself for it.

"… Okay… It was a couple of weeks ago-"

_._

"Oh god," Kurt rolled his eyes, "there goes the bell, play times over."

Blaine felt relieved, even though he knew he was just dragging it out longer. Kurt jumped to his feet, and held out a hand to Blaine. Blaine looked at the hand, and then to Kurt's radiant face. If he wanted, no, needed Kurt to hate him, he could start now. Blaine tucked his legs under himself and pushed himself up from the ground, standing straight up. Kurt watched him, arm still outstretched. "O-oh… oh, alright. I'll… bye." Kurt looked hurt, like Blaine had just insulted him. Kurt's gaze dropped to the floor as he hurried off, like a scolded child who was trying to look brave in front of the other children. Blaine felt horrible… absolutely awful. He loathed himself; he despised what he had just done and what he'd have to do. The only shred of comfort he had was knowing it was all to save Kurt. Well… keep him safe. He knew what Kurt was going through now was bad, but it could only get worse. Blaine's job was to stop that from happening, no matter the cost. Even if it meant letting the one thing he had ever truly loved hate him.

Blaine sank down to the floor, leaning against the stupid equipment shed. He didn't care that he had to go in, the guards would come get him soon enough. He felt worse then how he felt when he was declared guilty. He wished he had never; ever met Kurt Hummel… had never fallen in love with him… and never have put both their lives in danger by falling in love with him. But he did love him. Meeting him was just the spark, and now his whole world was in flames. Endless burning, endless pain, impossible to escape from. Two days down, only four thousand, three hundred and seventy four left to go.

**Authors note: Hello perfect human being who has been reading my fanfiction. First of all, I love you, secondly thank you so much for reading/reviewing/favoriting this story. Thirdly, to thank you the next chapter will be an extra long chapter. Sadly, this means it will take a while to finish, but I'm on study leave and have finished all my exams, so I can devote a lot of time to this (I know, I have no life). Please stick with me, and I'll try my best to keep your faith in me!**

**You can follow me on Tumblr for updates (be warned, I'm a fangirl so expect a lot of Starkid, Avengers, Doctor who, Sherlock and the like). **


	5. Chapter Five

**Authors note: Here are a few answers to some questions you may have:**

**Artie was standing…?: yes, the reason why shall be explained and if the reason defies logic… screw you.**

**How old are Blaine and Kurt?: Blaine is twenty two, Kurt is twenty one. (I know Kurt is a year older then Blaine in Glee, but… leave me alone!**

**What happened with Blaine's Filipino lover! And what was his name?: All shall be revealed. **

**Warning: Contains adult content and flawed logic**

The day went much quickly then Blaine would have liked it to. Because he knew that the second he was back in his cell, Kurt would want to hear the story Blaine promised to tell him, and Blaine would have to tell it. He had to… Kurt was going to hate him but he needed him to. He felt like how he used to feel when he was younger, how he used to treasure every second of school time. He knew his dad would have been drinking… only he, his brother and their mother knew about how much his dad used to drink. To the town, he was a hero. To his family, he was an abusive drunk. As soon as that bell rang to dismiss the school Blaine's heart would sink painfully. He willed for the clock to go slower but it always went so fast, so, so fast. Six lessons that seemed to last six minutes and a second for break and lunch, and he'd travel home, fully aware that a violent beating awaited him. The day was over, and he was walking to his cell. Soon Blaine wouldn't have to imagine the look of disgust, hate and horror on Kurt's face. He'd never see those gorgeous eyes look at him lovingly…

The day itself had been entirely uneventful; in fact the only part of the day that deserved a place in Blaine's memory was dinner. He was sat with his new 'friends' at their table, eating the tasteless meat with weak gravy and bitter potatoes, washed down with watery juice. Mike, Artie and Sam were engaged in a discussion about comic books or something; Finn and Puck were comparing how much they'd worked out that day. Blaine didn't read comics and wasn't really into the whole gym scene (although he used to practice boxing when he was stressed or scared) so he sat quietly, tucking into his "food". Blaine wondered if they had forgotten he was sat there. Blaine found it odd that they still invited him to sit down, even though he was clearly a marked and public enemy of Sebastian Smythe. When their conversations reached an end, he decided to find out.

"Artie?"

Artie looked up, "Yeah?"

"… Erm… well… why did you ask me to sit with you?"

Artie tilted his head like a confused puppy, "I don't understand…"

"Well, a-after yesterday I thought-"

"Oh!" Artie sat up, swallowing a mouthful of potato, "because of Sebastian?" Blaine nodded, "you thought- oh!" Artie sniggered a little; it was Blaine's turn to be confused. "Dude, you're in prison. In prison you won't survive on your own."

Mike nodded in agreement, "it's true. Guys come in thinking that they're strong enough to take anyone on or if they stay invisible they'll survive."

"And they die."

"Or worse."

"W-worse?" Blaine blinked.

"Oh yeah." Artie nodded, "much, much worse."

"You were sat alone," Mike said, "you drew the entire prison's attention to yourself and sat alone. If you're alone and attract attention then people will… you know."

Blaine nodded, oh he knew…

"But if you're with a group then you're not worth the effort." Artie explained.

"People like easy targets." Added Mike.

"Plus you seem like an okay guy, it'd be a shame to see prison tear you apart like a slice of bread." Artie said a little too cheerfully. Oh, Blaine thought, how thoughtful.

"But… what about Sebastian?" Blaine asked, "Clearly he hates m-"

"Oh, Sebastian hates everybody." Finn laughed.

Well that made sense. Blaine thought about this, "What is he even in f-"

"Rape." Chorused the table at the same time. That made even more sense.

The table was quite for a few more minutes; Blaine noticed a third of the table gave up trying to finish the bitter food. Eventually Artie asked Blaine a surprising question.

"So, Blaine, was Sebastian worried you were going to steal his little toy?" Blaine was both shocked at the question and angered by him calling Kurt a 'toy'.  
"… He was yes. But I'm not going to, trust me."

"Gay?" Artie asked.

"… er…" Blaine hesitated. Prison didn't seem like the type of place that'd be hanging up rainbow flags and chanting 'gay! It's okay!' But these guys didn't seem like the homophobic sort, plus they had plenty of respect for raging homosexual Sebastian. Well… he wouldn't call it respect. "… Yeah. I am." He sighed. Artie nodded and returned to push a potato around his plate with his fork, none of the table seemed all that bothered. Blaine was relieved. "Are you g-?"

"Straight." Said Artie.

"Straight." Said Sam.

"Straight." Said Puck.

"Straight." Said Finn.

"Straight." Said Mike.

"Ah…" Said Blaine.

Sam rolled his eyes a little, "Relax, Blainers. We know ya not gunna jump us. You're a good guy."

"Trust me; we wouldn't invite you onto our table if we didn't like you." Puck nodded, "plus if you do cross us, I'll kill you."

"Shut it, Puck." Mike flicked some potato at him.

"You know I will." Puck growled, "Remember what happened to-"

"Yes." Mike sighed a little, his face dropping, "We all remember…"

"Well if he crosses us, he'll get the same." Puck glared at Mike, and then at Blaine, then back to his empty plate, his face contorted as if concentrating really hard on lifting up the plate with his thoughts. Blaine happened to once again be sat right next to Puck, so that didn't help. Jesus, why did everyone want to kill him?"

"Ignore Puck, Blaine. He's been edgy since… since last time someone crossed us." Sighed Finn.

"We don't talk about it." Sam nodded, "You see… we were friends outside of prison." Blaine had wondered why these guys, who looked like the most unlikely bunch of friends ever, would bond in prison. Fit but gawky Mike, tall and dim looking Finn, butch and intimidating Puck, nerdy and puffy-lipped Sam, short and dorky Artie. "We were in our high school's football team, and we just… kinda got on. We carried on being friends out of school since we all got jobs at this corporation."

"We filed papers and answered phones." Said Mike.

"Yeah. And Artie," he gestured to him, "he used to be a cripple."

Blaine blinked. The first question that ran though his head was not 'how is he walking now' but 'how the hell did he get on the football team'.

"It's true." Sighed Artie, "I got in a car crash when I was eight, had to use a wheelchair. Only when I was about seventeen I found out about this Chinese guy who had discovered a way to… to fix me. He'd been working on this experiment to infuse the spinal cord with steal, and somehow managing to transmit feeling to the paralysed area. It was… a miracle. Nobody knew about it, the guy had been working on it to save his crippled daughter. He needed a human to test on… so…"

"And… it worked!" Finn informed him, as if Blaine hadn't already worked out the outcome of the story.

"I can't run or play sports, but I can walk. Very… very slowly, I have to take breaks, but yeah… he healed me." Artie smiled fondly, his gaze on his lap. Blaine tried to imagine what Artie must have felt. After spending almost nine years in a wheelchair, feeling like he was doomed to it forever, to finally stand up and take his first unassisted steps. "Except…" his face dropped, "I needed a bunch of medical attention. I had to have all these tests and… small operations on my legs… the medical bills were so high."

"It would have costed around $50,000 by the time he was twenty." Finn swallowed, "So, a few years ago, we decided to help him. We were all nineteen and had no college qualifications… but we needed to make money."

"So we all made a plan… I didn't want them to go through it for me… but they wouldn't listen. I had to help, it wouldn't feel right otherwise."

"We were going to rob a jewellery store." Mike sighed; there was a twinge of either regret or shame in his voice.

"The plan was going fine" Said Puck, his eyes hard and deadly, "… perfect… but one of the guys who was helping us… betrayed us."

"He was called Jesse St James." Mike told him, and Puck spat on the floor.  
"The fucking piece of scum…" he growled. "he only agreed to help us because he was going to take the earning to pay off his dept to a mob."

"He had this show choir consultant business which went tits up." Sam said.  
"So, we would pass the boxes of goods to Jesse who passed them through a window in the back room to Artie and he'd load them up." Said Finn.

"As soon as we'd done, Artie climbed back in and we started to destroy the video evidence from the cameras." Said Mike.

"Only… well… we heard a crash, and the alarms went off… and we couldn't see Jesse."

"The dirty scumbag had set off the alarm and was making a break for it." Puck growled louded, eyes burning a hole in his plate. "We ran to the backroom, but he'd gotten out, locking the window shut. We tried to smash it… but couldn't. The police got us."  
"So… now we're in here and I've still got a pile of dept waiting for me when I get out." Artie sighed, his gaze resting on his lap again. Blaine wondered how it must feel… to have your best friends sent to jail and it's all because of you.

"Artie, we've told you a million times, it was Jesse's fault, not yours." Said Sam, resting a hand on Artie's shoulder.

"But-"

"But nothing." Sam interrupted.

"So," Puck continued, the fire in his eyes died down a little, "we were locked up. But, two years later guess who decided to join us? The piece of shit himself, Jizzbag St Shitface."

"He started to work for the mod he owed money for, but wasn't too careful." Said Finn, "got caught and thrown in here. The mob he worked for is apparently furious."

"So, as soon as we found out the rat's ass was here, I got him… I got him good. Dam near killed him…" Puck's eyes darkened again, Blaine noticed his hands were tightly bound into fists, veins pulsing against his neck.

Clearly Puck was too angry to continue, so Finn did for fear Puck may punch something if he did, "Jesse got transferred and Puck might get an extra three years on his sentence, but he's got his appeal."

"Should have killed him…" said Puck in a deadly whisper.

"He's not worth it. He's a rat. Let his precious mob get him." Said Sam, wearing a similar expression to Puck, of anger and loathing and hurt.

Dinner ended minutes later, as Blaine was leaving he turned to Artie, noticing how slow his steps were, and how Finn was right beside him, ready to support him if he should fall. He thought about the friends he used to have, well… not really friends. People who hung around with him for the sake of not having anyone else to hang around with. The Rejects, people used to call them. He doubted any of them really liked Blaine, and was certain none of them would plan a huge robbery and risk prison to save him, even if it was to pay for a miraculous operation.

As Blaine laid on his cell bed, waiting for Kurt like a prisoner waiting for his executioner, he thought over that meal. He thought about the hurt in Artie's eyes, the pain. It was regret, it was guilt, it was misery, shame and hurt. His best friends were all doing prison time because they were trying to help him. His best friends were being hurt because of Artie. There was no real way of sugar coating it. Even though they got caught because of Jesse, they could have been caught anyway. He wasn't mad at Artie, but trying to put himself in his shoes. If Artie was that upset because he sentenced his friends to jail, how would Blaine feel if he allowed himself to fall any deeper in love with Kurt and it resulted in Kurt being murdered by Sebastian. He imagined looking over at Kurt's cold, empty bed, trying to imagine Kurt's bright, cheerful eyes being still and lifeless, the single thought that because of him the beautiful, gentle rose that was Kurt Hummel had been trampled. Murdered. He refused to allow someone so perfect, harmless and innocent to be the subject of murder because of him. He refused. Kurt needed to hate him… if Kurt looked at him with nothing but hate maybe these feelings of love would go away? No… Blaine didn't believe that for a second. But… Kurt needed to hate him. As soon as Kurt sat down, Blaine would tell him. Tell him he murdered his own father with a letter knife.

Eventually, in walked Kurt. Perfect, beautiful, smiling Kurt. Inspite of the hell he lived in he refused to stop smiling… "Hey Blaine. So, you owe me one coming out story." He smiled, sitting down beside him. Blaine looked at his smiling face… he'd probably never see him smile again. He savoured it, the way it gave him tiny dimples, the little crinkled starburst between his eyes and the way that when his lips smiled, so did his eyes. His smile was always out of genuine happiness… how the hell he could be happy was beyond Blaine. Blaine nodded, taking a deep breath, this was it. He looked Kurt in his gorgeous eyes, and told him the story.

Blaine had been managing to ignore his burning urges, and resist the irresistible temptation in the form of his Filipino house keeper. However, one fateful day his father was attending a meeting in France, his brother was out shooting another advert and his mother was on a spa break, leaving Blaine alone with the forbidden fruit. He retreated to his bedroom, trying to concentrate on reading and listening to music in his desk chair. He heard the door open behind him around lunchtime, and in the corner of his eye was the gorgeous, hunky house keeper. His white tee was perfectly tight, his jeans were too. Nothing was really left to the imagination. Fuck, thought Blaine, just ignore him…

This proved difficult. His Ipod ran out of battery and he had to put it on charge, and concentrating on the book alone was near impossible. Suddenly, for the first time, the man spoke to him.

"Where is Mr. Anderson today?" he asked, his accent more beautiful then any song on Blaine's Ipod.

"O-out… they're all out, everyone but me." Blaine stammered. Why was he so nervous?

"Oh… just the two of us, then?" there was a hint of a smile in his voice; it sent shivers up Blaine's spine.

"Y-yep."

"Well, in that case you may call me Ramon."

"… I-I will do that."

"Yes…" Blaine listened as Ramon changed his bed sheets and the flowers on his windowsill. Blaine tried to ignore him, his chair was facing the wall but Ramon's every movement was being acted out in his mind's eye. He could see how Ramon's muscles bulged as he lifted up the heavy quilt…

Blaine listened to Ramon's footsteps as he moved towards the bedroom door… then stopped. They began to get louder, moving back towards Blaine. Blaine ignored it, well tried to, and concentrated on the wall in front of him. Suddenly, Blaine felt a warm pair of strong, smooth hands rest upon his shoulders. His body froze, his heart like gunfire. The hands then proceeded to slide down Blaine's arms, caressing his skin with the fingertips. He could see the delectable mocha skin of the arms, confirming that it was in fact Ramon. Blaine couldn't move. He had two choices, push him away and Ramon would leave him alone and he could continue to be straight, or give in to his burning desire, and allow this gorgeous man to touch him in ways girls could not. Blaine couldn't move if he wanted to… God, he wanted it so badly… more… more…

Ramon's lips found their way to Blaine's ear, his hands still moving up and down Blaine's toned arms.  
"So… no one is home, eh?" Ramon whispered, his voice dripping with seductiveness.

"N-no… no one…" Blaine whispered back, god he could smell him… he smelt of light aftershave and sweat and a sharp muskiness… irresistible. He continued to inhale this delicious scent as Ramon's lips pressed to Blaine's ear, sucking gently on the lobe. Blaine's neck began to tingle, his whole body becoming alive with sparks of electricity. Ramon's lips moved downwards, teasing his neck with his lips as he caressed his arms with his hands. Blaine was lost in ecstasy and pleasure, all pride and fear lost in the wind. He wanted Ramon, and he fucking wanted him now. Ramon pulled back, his hands attaching themselves to Blaine's chair, spinning him around. Blaine looked up; Ramon was leaning over him, both their chests heaving. His hands were gripping the chair arms, muscles bulging and eyes burning with passion. They bore into Blaine's, making him feel dizzy and weak. Ramon began to lean in, and before Blaine could react the other's strong, hungry lips were pressed against his own. Ramon dominated his mouth, claiming it as his own. His hands found Blaine's waist and pulled him up. Blaine's arms wrapped around Ramon's neck, kissing him with equal passion as Ramon's arms slid around his waist, till their bodies were pressed as tightly together as their lips. They kissed like this for what felt like hours, with tongues entwining and hands exploring. Soon kissing was not enough for either. Ramon's hands found the ends of Blaine's shirt, and pulled it up over Blaine's head, tossing it to one side. Ramon then removed his own and swept Blaine up into his arms. Their bare chests, so hot and toned, pushed together, the friction feeding their desires for a few moments. Before long their pants went next, followed by them falling onto Blaine's bed. Blaine straddled Ramon, squeezing the man between his thighs as Ramon's hands held Blaine by his waist, kissing him passionately. Blaine felt alive. He felt like he was being kissed and touched for the very first time. At last, the longing that had been burning him alive for so long was being fed. He allowed the older man to dominate his body, claiming him. God Ramon, he thought, take me… take me, I want to be yours, I want to belong to you just please take me, fuck me, I need you, please… He continued to silently beg him until Ramon's strong, warm hands moved to his back, moving roughly up and down it. The then slid down, stopping at the waistband of Blaine's boxers. He stopped kissing him to look him in the eyes, silently asking for permission. Blaine nodded, fucking god yes he wanted it and he wanted it now, before the passionate kissing returned and Ramon's hands slid into his boxers, taking a grip of Blaine's ass and squeezing it firmly. Like the rest of him, he claimed it, claimed it as his own. Blaine's boxers were removed first, then Ramon's. Ramon flipped them over, straddling Blaine. Fuck, he was absolutely huge. He pressed their hard erections against each other; Blaine felt his own give a desperate twitch, his body screaming for more. Ramon rubbed them together, their erections already leaking with precum, growing harder, hotter and wetter with each movement. After Ramon had teased Blaine to the point of screaming, he flipped him over and made love to him. Over and over and over again, for the rest of the day they did not leave the bedroom. Blaine was pleasured by Ramon in ways he could never imagine. He felt things ne never thoughts he'd feel. The feeling of his cock in a warm, damp mouth, the feeling of a beautiful cock in his own mouth. Being jacked off by another guy, having another guy jack him off whilst fucking his tight, virgin ass. Soon, many hours later, they were drained of their energy. With Ramon's strong arms wrapped around him, Blaine fell asleep, head resting on the other's toned chest. He listened to his heart beat slow down, the gentle rhythm lulling him into a deep sleep.

Of course when he told this story to Kurt he just said 'there was this male house keeper, he was… so hot. In the end I couldn't resist him, we had sex and we fell asleep in my bed.' Then… he knew what had to come next.

There he was, completely naked, asleep in the arms of his Filipino lover, once clean sheets now stained with sweat and seed. That was how his father found him when his meeting was cancelled and he had returned home early. He was drunk, and completely consumed with a boiling rage. He pulled Blaine from the bed and heaved him across the room. He was screaming, but Blaine couldn't tell what. His face was bright red, his eyes wild and spit flying from his mouth. Blaine glanced at Ramon, who was huddled in the bed, looking terrified. His father then hit him. He hit him again, and again, and once more with Blaine's signed baseball bat (he actually hated baseball). His head was throbbing, forehead bleeding, but his father wasn't done yet. He kept screaming, beating him hard with his fists and the bat. Throbbing with pain and blinded by blood, Blaine managed to heave himself away, dodging a blow of the bat by hiding under his desk. The desk took the blow and one of Blaine's drawers fell out. There… amongst the contents of the drawer was a small, shiny, steal letter knife. Blaine wasn't sure why he had it, but there it was, the sun reflecting off it perfectly. Without thinking Blaine grabbed it, staggering to his feet and holding it in front of him. "Get back" he screamed over and over, he could hear Ramon sobbing in the bed. Blaine's dad dropped the bat, his eyes still burning and face still contorted with murderous rage. He screamed and threw himself at Blaine and Blaine raised the knife to ward him off… his hand suddenly felt warm and wet, he looked down to find the letter knife was deep within his father's throat, blood pouring out onto his hand. His father's eyes were wide, with shock mostly. He made horrible gurgling sounds, and staggered back. Blaine lost his grip and the knife stayed in his father's throat, who was still taking desperate, gurgling breathes for air. He tried to knock the knife out, but instead vomited a mouthful of blood and collapsed. His eyes were open, but he was dead. The rest was a blur to Blaine, but he remembered a few things. Ramon screaming and running from the room, for fear he was next. His mother coming home and screaming. The police arriving. Being found guilty. Guilty… Guilty… _Guilty_…

The story was over; he'd ripped off the band aid. He turned to Kurt, ready for the worst. "… I killed my father. I stabbed him with a knife. You may not be guilty but I am. I'm guilty… I did it." Blaine's voice was a whisper, the lump in his throat chocking him. Kurt's expression was blank, unreadable. His face hadn't changed from the natural expression he had has Blaine told the story. But then… Kurt spoke in a whisper.

"… I'm guilty too." Blaine blinked, his heart stopping for a second. "I… I did try to kill someone. I just… I was ashamed, I still am… I didn't think you'd… I thought…"

Blaine nodded, he understood. "I… I'm a murderer…"

"It was an accident." Kurt's hand touched his shoulder, "You were trying to defend yourself."  
Blaine shook his head, this wasn't working. Why didn't Kurt hate him? He needed to hate him! "N-no, I wanted to! I'm a murderer! A murd-"

Kurt's finger pressed itself to Blaine's lips, shushing him softly. Blaine's ability to speak melted away, his breath caught in his throat.  
"K-Kurt… I…"

"Shh…" Kurt whispered, his eyes calm and… there was something in them. Something he didn't recognise. Then, without warning, Kurt's soft, warm, tender lips pressed against… his cheek. "Shh. Now, go to sleep, okay?" He smiled before moving back to his own bed, pulling the blanket over him and falling asleep.

Blaine felt like he'd just been hit by lightning. He tells Kurt he killed his dad so he'd hate him, and he kisses him! Was it impossible for Kurt to hate him? If Blaine told him he burned down a children's hospital would he make out with him? Blaine sighed and fell down onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Kurt was guilty… he tried to kill someone… he didn't want Blaine to hate him. Why? Ugh… nothing made sense. He touched his cheek, fingers stroking the area Kurt's lips touched. He was filled with regret… terror. This couldn't go on… he needed to protect Kurt. Was there anyway to get Kurt to hate him? Blaine guessed the only person Kurt could hate would be Sebastian. But Blaine would never rape Kurt. No. Kurt was a perfect, gentle, beautiful creature, and Blaine could never ever force him to do anything like that. Sebastian was pure evil…

What did the other guy do to make Kurt want to kill him? Was it self defence? Rape again?

Blaine's mind was so alive with buzzing questions that he couldn't get to sleep. The sky beyond was a light orange with grey clouds before Blaine's mind gave up and allowed himself to sink into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	6. Chapter Six

A few weeks passed without anything happening. Blaine started to hang out with his 'friends' during his free time and went to bed the second he got back to his cell. If he couldn't get Kurt to hate him then his only option was to ignore him completely. It was going well… despite the growing emptiness within him from being so close yet so far away from Kurt. It was like he had become adjusted to living in the dark, when suddenly Kurt switched on the lights. But now the lights were gone and he was being swallowed by blackness, scared, lost, alone, the light was there but he couldn't see it…

Everything had become a big blur of pointless conversations, mediocre meals and tediously dull tasks. He'd sit at the table and listen to them go on and on about pointless topics, like he was watching some kind of chat show on TV. A bad, midday chat show which nobody watched but housewives and people on sick days. Oh, and the unemployed. He'd put in just enough effort into the leaf raking, litter picking, fence painting or whatever his community service was, just enough so that he wouldn't draw attention from the other convicts or get hassle from the wardens.

Who knew that prison could be so tedious and boring? If he had to put up with this for twelve years he'd go completely insane and either kill himself or everyone around him. The only interesting part of the day was when two convicts/gangs would start fighting at any random moment, which was fun to watch until the prison went into lock down.

Eventually, the day Blaine had been both looking forward to and dreading arrived.

Visiting day.

As he sat at his usual breakfast table with his usual company, he actually felt the need to contribute to the conversation, which was of course about the big day.

"So," Blaine swallowed a mouthful of breakfast, "You guys got visitors?"

"My mom," nodded Artie, "she's disappointed in me but… she still comes. We just… talk. She tells me about what's going on with my family and… we talk about the past. Its simple conversation but… it's more then I deserve…" Artie swallowed; there was a clear lump in his throat. Sam patted him on the shoulder. Blaine didn't even dare hope his own mother would show up.

"My parents and my little brother and sister are coming." Said Sam, his hand still on Artie's shoulder, "they're old enough to know what's going on and… they're still coming." He smiled a little, an expression similar to Artie's on his face. Blaine thought about Cooper, his own brother. Cooper had never liked his father; they'd had plenty of rows when his father was drunk. Blaine was the only one his father had ever struck, and Coop was always there to offer him comfort. Cooper seemed to be the only person in the world who truly liked Blaine, and Blaine thought of him as a best friend. He could tell him anything, Coop would always understand. Except… he never told him he was gay. He assumed he'd know by now. Blaine never knew where Coop stood when it came to sexuality; he never really gave an opinion. Blaine simply assumed he'd share the same thoughts as the rest of the town did. He felt a sudden terror grip his chest, like the kind you'd get when you're home alone and hear a loud bang from another room. Was anyone even going to come? He had no friends… only his family… would they even want to see him? He stared at his remaining breakfast, cold reality washing through him. Blaine had nobody… not anymore… twelve years of crushing loneliness behind bars and eternal loneliness out of them. Blaine was simply a walking shadow, who'd blend into the crowd before disappearing for good. He looked around the table, everybody talking about who was coming and about how they still loved them inspite of everything and how lucky they were… they'd be set free and their friends and family would take them in and their lives could begin again. But for Blaine the darkness would always be there… he'd never grow accustomed to it again. The world was bright and good but Blaine was blind… and there was nobody to take him by the arm and guide him, to help him grow accustomed to the darkness and maybe help him break through it. He'd just stagger around, reaching into the blackness and finding nothing. Lost… alone… frightened and forgotten. Reduced to town gossip and eventually nothing. The worst part was… it was the life he chose. He climbed into bed with his house keeper. He grabbed the knife. He used it…

He made his bed, so let him lay in it…

The moment Blaine was now only dreading eventually arrived, and Blaine prepared himself to sit tight whilst wardens fetched prisoners to escort them to the visiting room. They were waiting in the dining hall; Blaine's table sat in silence. For once, there was nothing else to be said, like every conversational topic had been used. The viewers of Juicy Jailbirds will get bored if the episodes are repetitive. All around him people left, and then came back, but some stayed exactly where they were. One by one Blaine's table were escorted to the visiting room and returned with news of home. Soon there was just Puck and Blaine left to go, and the prospect of being taken by one of the guards to meet a loved one was becoming less and less possible with every passing minute.

Yet, sometimes, the impossible just happens to pop up once in a while.

There are no words to describe the feeling of joy which sprung from Blaine's chest and washed through his body as a guard tapped him on the shoulder and escorted him to 'meet his visitor'.

Blaine's joy and excitement were soon replaced by curiosity and worry. 'Who the hell was coming to see him' and 'what the hell were they going to talk about'. Question one was answered as he entered the deeply depressing visitors room, full of circular tables with red plastic chairs, upon which sat awkward looking convicts and teary eyes visitors. And there, at a table at the end, staring at his lap and playing with his hands was his protector, comforter, best friend and now prison visitor, Cooper Anderson. Blaine moved awkwardly to the table, he could feel the guard's eyes fixed on him. He pulled out a chair across from Coop and sat down; Coop's eyes didn't leave his lap. They sat there for a moment, nobody said a word. Then, after a full, valuable minute of the fifteen he had for visiting, Coops raised his head. He seemed to be taking Blaine in, as if meeting him for the first time.

"… Nice jumpsuit." He said, giving Blaine a fraction of a smile.

"I know, brings out my eyes, huh?" Blaine joked, feeling the tension die down a little. "So… how's prison been treating you?"

"Oh, grand."

"You look well."

"I'm not…"

"I know." Coop sighed, playing with his hands again. The silence and tension returned, making Blaine uncomfortable.

"So… how's mom?" Blaine asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Bad… real bad…" Blaine's heart sank, it was the answer he's been expecting but it still felt like a blow to the stomach. "She's… she's hardly left her room, she just lays in bed and drinks and-"

"Drinks?" Blaine stared at him, unable to believe what he had just heard. His mother, his devote Christian mother who spent her life quoting the Bible and complaining about sinners and praying for gay people to be cured was _drinking_?

"Yeah… she's taking it really, really hard."

"What? Dad's dead, I'm in jail or I'm… you know."

"I don't think she's bothered about dad. She hated him, you know? She really, really hated him… she was trapped. I think it's more to do with… you and how… how the village is taking it."

"Has she said anything?"

"Yeah." Coop swallowed.

"Well… what?"

"I-I'd rather not-"

"Coop!"

Coop sighed, biting his bottom lip, "Fine… she said you're a faggot who'll burn in hell once he's done rotting in jail where he belongs."

"Well… that was tame."

They both smiled, laughing at the unfunniness of the situation.

"I miss you, Squirt." Admitted Coop.

"I miss you…" he swallowed, "… do you miss dad?"  
Coop scoffed, "absolutely not. I… don't think what you did was the right thing but… well I'm not going to mourn him. I'm not happy you killed him, and I… well, I'm devastated you're in prison, but dad… he had what was coming to him."

"… I didn't think you'd come."

"When have I not been there for you?"

"Never, but… well… I'm a… I'm…"

"Gay?" Coop asked, amused. Blaine nodded.

"I knew, you know? I knew… I always knew…"

"H-how?"

"Whenever you brought a girl over I could tell. You may have thought she was cool but… you didn't want her. There was no chemistry. Most would look at you and think 'oh he's just being awkward' but I knew you better then that. And then… I saw the way you'd look at Ramon." Blaine stared at him, his heart hammering, "I could tell you were trying to hide your feelings, trying to push them down… I always knew."

Blaine sighed, looking down, "I'm… sorry…"

"Sorry?" Coop chuckled, "you don't have to be sorry. You're my brother and I'll always love you, no matter what you do."

"Doesn't it bother you, though?"

"Should it? Why should it bother anybody? Instead of liking girls you like boys. Instead of wanting to make babies you want to adopt them. What's the big deal?"

Blaine wanted to laugh with relief, "you… I…"

"So… did you and Ramon have fun?"

"Coop!"

What?"

"I'm not about to sit here and discuss that with you!"  
"You discus everything else with me."

"Coop!"  
"Fine." Coop laughed, shaking his head a little, "people have been saying things about you… around town. I've heard them. And when I do, I kick their asses."

Blaine blinked. Great, now Coop was going to earn himself a reputation as a Fag lover thanks to Blaine. "You really don't have to…"

"Nobody messes with the Anderson bros." he smiled, giving Blaine a wink.

Blaine smiled back, trying to swallow down the absurd urge to either burst out laughing or burst into tears.

A buzzer sounded, telling him his fifteen minutes were up. He felt a pang of grief, it'd be a whole month before he'd see Coop again… the only person who… who…

Blaine watched Coop being escorted out, giving him a little wave. Just as he was about to stand, he was pushed back to his seat.

"Hang on, buddy." Came the gruff voice behind him, "you got another visitor."

Another visitor? Blaine turned around and found a guard stood there, a crisp twenty sticking out his chest pocket. Before Blaine could ask who, the chair across from him pulled out. He turned to find none other then Ramon sitting across from him, wearing the expression of a scolded child being forced to apologise.

"… Blaine…" his accent had lost its seductive charm, "I, erm… I…"

"Why are you here?" Blaine asked, his eyes narrowed.

"To see you." Ramon looked down, swallowing. "I… I feel… awful."

"You feel awful? I'm in jail… I killed a man…"

"The fault… it is mine." Ramon swallowed again, "I… I knew about your family's views and… prejudice. But… I couldn't resist you." He sighed, drumming his fingers on the table, "you… god… I tried so hard to resist… but we were alone… I just had to try… to try…" he looked like he was in pain, like he was suffering from stomach pains, "I was selfish. I had seen the way you looked at me" God, thought Blaine, is there anyone in that house who hadn't? "And… I could tell. You wanted me, I wanted you… but I… I was selfish. If I had controlled myself… left you alone… your father wouldn't have…" he stopped. There was nothing else to say.

Blaine looked down too, his mind suddenly buzzing. That look in Ramon's eyes… that look of self hate, regret, guilt… so familiar and so unmistakable. It was the look he saw in Artie's eyes. Ramon blamed himself; he blamed himself that Blaine was in prison. It was true, if Ramon had never tempted Blaine in the way he couldn't resist his father never would have caught them, Blaine never would have been beaten to the point where he grabbed the knife… but he couldn't blame him. Blaine simply couldn't force himself to share any blame with Ramon. Blaine was the guilty one, Ramon was… unfortunate enough to be tangled up in his family's mess. It was bound to happen at some point; Blaine couldn't control his urges and desires forever. He looked up at Ramon, who seemed smaller and weaker from their last encounter, and said the only and truest words he could manage.

"… It's not your fault."

"… You are kind for saying so, but it-"

"No! It's not your fault and you blaming yourself is making it worse for me! I don't want anymore people to be hurt because of me… enough have!" Blaine was almost shouting, several tables had turned to look at him. Ramon looked like Blaine had just slapped him, and dropped his gaze once again.

"Very well… I accept your wishes…" Ramon nodded. "I have said what I needed to say…" he nodded again and stood up, "so long, Blaine Anderson." and left.

Blaine would never see him again.

Blaine was heading back when he passed the dining hall. The door was open and at first glance it seemed empty. But, as Blaine looked closer, he found that not to be the case. Sat alone, at his usual table, at his usual spot, was Puck. He was sat, shoulders hunched over, hands together, staring into space. Inspite of the fact he'd barely said two words to him, Blaine found himself walking over to him. He sat beside him, Puck barely acknowledged Blaine was there.

"… Puck?"

"Hmm?"

"… Where are the others?"

"The yard, waiting…"

"Why aren't you there?"

Puck didn't speak.

"… Puck?" Then, before his eyes, tears began to crawl down Puck's face.

"Sh-she… she's not coming… she's not coming…" Puck whispered, tears dripping onto the table.

"Who?"

"My mom…" Puck let out a tiny sob, his cheeks reddening and jaw quivering, "she… she always used to come… always… but… last time she came… we had a fight…" he swallowed hard, "she left early. I wanted to make up with her today… but… she's not here. She's not coming…" Then the real tears came. Puck hid his face in his hands, shoulders jumping as he hunched over, sobbing.

Blaine watched him, there seemed to be nothing he could say. He tried to imagine what Puck was going through, but he had never felt the warmth of a mother's love, so he couldn't imagine what having it ripped away felt like. Although he suspected it would be cold… dark… being lost.

"… Sh-she might come next time?" Blaine tried.

Puck didn't speak for a long time, but the sobs seemed to have stopped. Eventually, he did speak.

"… Who came for you?" Puck's voice was muffled by his hands.

"M-my brother came. My… my mom hates me."

Puck looked up, his cheeks and eyes red and tear soaked, "… what did you do?"

"… Something terrible…" Blaine couldn't bring himself to say it, "but she hates me and she's drinking herself to death thanks to me. I'm… sure your mother still loves you."

Puck scoffed, "Yeah right."

"I mean it. She's your mother, she won't stay mad forever."

"Will your mom stay mad forever?" Puck questioned.

"… Possibly… but what I did was unforgivable." This was only a half lie. It wasn't his crime his mother found unforgivable, but the reason she hated him apparently was.

Puck wiped his eyes, taking deep breaths. "… I was stupid, fighting with her…"

"Shh, it'll be okay. She just needs to cool off… she'll be here next time."

"You don't know that."

"Please? Look, if you lose hope in here, you'll go mad… just… she will come, okay?"

"Hrm…"

"Okay?"

"…"

"Okay?"

"Okay! Alright, fine, yes, she'll come, happy?" Puck sighed frustrated.

"Are you?" Blaine smiled a little.

"… Shut up." Puck heaved himself from his seat, "Going back to my cell. Laters, Anderson."

Blaine remained in his chair, thinking over their conversation.

_If you lose hope in here, you'll go mad…_

Maybe hope wasn't entirely lost for Blaine… Coop still loved him, after all. Maybe once he got out Coop would be there to welcome him home. Maybe he could stay with him? It'd be like a sitcom, two brothers, one a successful actor and the other an ex-convict, living together and having wacky adventures. Would Coop have found his big break in twelve years? Would he be making it big in Hollywood and forget Blaine existed…

No… no… Blaine was his brother. They'd been through too much for him to forget.

When I get out, Blaine thoughts, Cooper will be there. He'll invite me in and we'll live together. He'll help me get back on my feet.

It wasn't much, but it should be enough to keep him from going crazy from lost hope.

**Authors note: Whatup. Next time, a tender moment with Kurt leaves Blaine fearful that his attempts to control his urges might be as futile as they were with Ramon. And an unfortunate encounter with a guard leaves Blaine in dept to the last person in the world he'd want to be in dept to…**

**Follow me on Tumblr for updates and some spoilers! **

** .com **


	7. Chapter Seven

**Authors note: Hi all you lovely people who like my fic therefore I love you in return. I feel like I need a little picture to go with this fic, but no fan art exists featuring prison Klaine and I'm not even going to attempt to create my own. So if you want to help me out by creating some fan art and sending it me via email at thegreatperhaps at hotmail dot com then I'd appreciate it so much! All credit will go to you and I'll love you forever. I'm not sure what I can give you in return; I doubt I'm good/famous enough to offer autographs or something. I could dedicate a chapter to you? Or is that pretentious… agh, PLEASE HELP ME! 3 **

**Also I'm thinking of writing a fanfiction featuring Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory. Thoughts? (yes, there will me smut)**

The incident with Puck had unnerved Blaine slightly. He was escorted back to his cell by a guard; he wanted to be alone for a while. It was strange… he thought that having the promise of a good life out of jail would make life within jail bearable. Instead Blaine became much more aware of how long twelve years was. Each day seemed to stretch on forever, every one felt more like a week.

He'd have to suffer each ones of those excruciating days three hundred and sixty fives times, then another three hundred and sixty five times, again and again twelve times. That thoughts alone was enough to drive him insane, let alone adding in the constant threat of being shanked, raped and of course Kurt Hummel.

Tucking his legs up to his chest, Blaine wrapped his arms around them, his chin resting inbetween them. He found himself staring at the tiny, barred window. The sky was a deep blue, not a cloud in sight. After seeing Cooper, who he now considered his only family, he felt more alone then ever before. Like when you don't realize you're hungry until you take a bite of food, then you're left starving with only the taste remaining in your mouth, and you'd give anything to get it back. He needed Coop, he just wanted to see him again, talk to him… but he'd have to wait another month until he could and only for fifteen minutes. It was like being fed a mouthful of food everyday. If this was the only time he'd get to spend with someone like Cooper, he was going to go insane. Prison changes people, and Blaine could see why.

As he sat there, lost in thought, he didn't notice when a certain someone decided to join him in the cell.

"Having a nice nap?" came Kurt's voice from the other bed, which snapped Blaine back to reality.

"Kurt— Oh, I erm… no just…" he sighed, "thinking…"

"… Did you have a visitor?" Kurt asked, tucking his legs up onto the bed.

"Yeah, I did." Blaine nodded, twisting his hands together. This was the first time in weeks that he and Kurt had been alone together and engaging in conversation.

"Parent?"  
"No… my brother."

"Oh… oh, sorry, I-I… I forgot…" Kurt stammered, Blaine saw him blush and look away from the corner of his eye.

"Its okay, it's fine." Blaine shrugged. Kurt forgot he murdered his father? This would have given Blaine the perfect opportunity to get mad at Kurt to further the distance between them, but one look at Kurt's face and all anger would melt away. "You?"

Kurt blinked, swallowed and dropped his gaze, so he was speaking more to his navel then to Blaine, "… no…"

He looked over at Kurt, whose angle face was simply pure sadness. Blaine felt another urge to gather Kurt up in his arms, to just do whatever it takes to make him smile again. He looked away, fists so tight his nails dug into his palm as he tried to resist it. "Nobody?"

"No…" Kurt's voice was reduced to a whisper, it threatened tears, "my dad… he always used to come. But… but…" he sniffed, his voice became strained, and he was obviously trying to hide back tears. "But Sebastian told me I couldn't. He told me that he forbade me from having visitors. So… one day I… I acted bitter and angry and told my dad not to come anymore. He came though, and again… but I kept it up. And one day… he stopped coming… hasn't since…" he took a deep, shakey breath, "this was a year ago…" his eyes welled up with tears and his voice became unnaturally high. He let out a strained sob, tears running down his reddening cheeks.

Blaine's heart broke listening to him. He couldn't just sit there and ignore him, not anymore. He left his own bed and sat down on Kurt's, wrapping his arms around the smaller, skinner boy. Kurt's face was buried into Blaine's neck; Blaine could feel the tears against his skin. He wrapped Kurt up in a tight embrace, not caring about the consequences. Kurt's fingers were on Blaine's chest, the fabric of the jumpsuit in Kurt's grasp. Blaine's eyes fluttered shut, his chin pressed to Kurt's forehead. His stubble probably irritated Kurt but he didn't seem to mind.

Blaine couldn't resist inhaling deeply; Kurt's scent swam through his nostrils and seemed to flood his brain and the rest of his body. They sat there for what felt like an eternity, Blaine holding the shaking boy in his arms, the sweet scent of soap and freshly baked bread surrounding him. Eventually the tears stopped, and Kurt emerged from Blaine's skin. He sat up a little, Blaine's arms still around him. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, his whole face was red and wet but he was still perfect.

"S-sorry…" his voice was less then a whisper, "I just… miss him… and he's angry at me…" he sniffed again, but no tears came this time, "he was always there for me, always. No matter what I did he would always be there… always love me… just… he… he was always there. And I pushed him away…" his eyes shut and he fell against Blaine, his head resting on the other's shoulders.

Blaine wondered what it must feel like to be loved by a parent.

"It's not your fault… Sebastian made you." Blaine whispered back, checking the hallway. The day was rarely this beautiful, so the other convicts were enjoying it. Blaine seemed to be the only one inside.

"… I should never have agreed… should have never let him… use me…"

"No, it's okay… I would have done the same!"

"… I just… regret it… so fucking much…" Kurt sniffed again. Blaine shifted his position to face Kurt. He looked into his eyes. Pure blue iris but the rest was a pale red, full of tears. He ever so gently wiped Kurt's eyes, which Kurt closed for him.

"We all do things we regret." Said Blaine quietly, "But… sometimes we don't know we're going to regret them. We just do things in spur the moment situations, no time to think. Something feels right and you just grab it… you grab it and… you don't think you just… you just do." He sighed deeply, "then next thing you know you're facing life in jail." He swallowed. A few moments passed. "Your mistakes can't define you."

"But mine cost me everything…" Kurt murmured.

"So did mine." Blaine smiled a little.

"But at least you have somebody who loves you." Sighed Kurt, "You have your brother. I… have no one to love me."

Everything stopped. Silence fell. Blaine wet his lips and uttered the words that could kill them both. "… I do."

He felt Kurt tense up in his arms. Kurt sat up again and their eyes locked, Kurt's were wide and startled, "W-what?"

"… I love you." Blaine whispered, looking deep into Kurt's beautiful, beautiful eyes. Kurt's breath ghosted Blaine's face, they were so close that Blaine could count Kurt's eyelashes. Blaine's gaze dropped to Kurt's lips, his soft, rose petal lips. He forgot where they were. He forgot about Sebastian. He forgot about everything. Nothing existed, nothing but Kurt and his oh-so-soft lips.

He leaned in a tiny amount, consumed in a fog of lust, desire and love. Kurt did the same. Their eyes fluttered closed, the distance between their lips vanishing. Kurt's breath was purely over Blaine's lips. He felt Kurt's hand slide up Blaine's arm and come to rest on his neck, his palm was warm and supple. Blaine moved in to close the distance…

_BANG!_

They both jumped violently, Blaine let Kurt go like he was too hot to hold, his heart pounding hard and fast. The banging came from down the corridor, and was followed by footsteps. Blaine leapt to his own bed, shaking, trying desperately to avoid looking at Kurt. He was embarrassed; he was scared, he was angry at himself, furious even. His face was hot and his stomach tight, the voice in his head was cursing. The footsteps grew closer, and Blaine sighed in relief to find it was just a guard. Simply a prison guard coming to find him for whatever reason which probably wouldn't be good, thank God for that.

The guard looked at Blaine. He was tall, black and rather muscley, hair hidden under a warden's hat. "Anderson, follow me."

Blaine jumped up, not looking at Kurt, and followed the guard through the hall of empty cells. A few minutes passed before they reached a door in a part of the prison Blaine hadn't seen before. The guard opened it and ushered Blaine inside.

The panic suddenly set in. Why was he here? What had he done? Had something bad happened? Something happen to Coop? He took shakey steps into the room, glancing around. He noticed a broom, a hover, a mop and bucket and various bottles of spray before he realized he was in a rather large broom closet. He glanced over to the guard, brows knitting together, wondering if they had gone the wrong way. The guard's eyes were fixed on Blaine with such intensity it was like he was attempting to burn a hole through him with a gaze. The guard stepped inside and closed the door, locking it.

Blaine's heart was hammering fast, his eyes wide and body frozen. The guard advanced on Blaine but he was rooted to the spot. The guard stopped, inches from Blaine.

"… You're a homo, ain't cha?" The guard's voice was low and deep.

"M-me?" Fear gripped his heart as he realized what this was. The guard knew he was gay. He was going to get his ass kicked. "N-no… no… I'm not, I swear I'm not!" he watched in terror as the guard reached behind him and pulled out his truncheon.

"Hmm… oh really?" A sickening smile spread on the guard's thin lips, "fresh meat, then. A fresh, tight, virgin boy." He chuckled.

Blaine felt sick. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run. No… no, please just be an ass kicking, he'd had plenty, just please be an ass kicking… please…

"Take off your clothes." The guard's voice was a dark whisper, his eyes dangerously mad.

Blaine let out a dry sob, "N-no… no…" he whispered, begging with his eyes.

"Now."

"Please no…" Blaine felt tears spring to his eyes, fear and horror consuming his body. The guard grabbed Blaine by the jump suit, yanking him forward. His hard, strong lips pressed hard against Blaine's, his tongue forcing entry and dominating Blaine's mouth as Blaine struggled helplessly in the grown man's grasp. The man forcibly kissed Blaine more before he slammed his against the wall with such a force that bottles of chemicals fell from the shelves. Blaine cried out as searing pain shot through him.

"Now… take… off… your… clothes… now." The guard's stare was angry and crazed, his whisper dark and deadly. Blaine wanted to throw up. He swallowed down on the lump in his throat, his fingers shaking like mad as they reached up and slowly unzipped his jump suit. He felt his eyes sting with tears, his body hot with humiliation. He could hear the guard lick his lips as he jump suit fell from his shoulders and crumpled on the floor, leaving him in just his boxers and tank top. The guard's sick smile returned as his eyes explored Blaine's body, making him feel sick and dirty.

"Good boy… such a good little boy…" the guard growled, "now face the wall."

Blaine obeyed, turning away from the guard, coming face to face with the wall. This room was soundproof…

He guard approached him from behind, his hands reaching round him, stroking Blaine's toned stomach. He moaned deeply, "Mmm… yesss… just how I like them…" he whispered before licking a long stripe up and down Blaine's neck. Blaine shivered, and the guard punished him by biting down on the skin between his neck and shoulder. Pain shot through him but Blaine daren't make a sound. He could feel the guard's smile against his skin, his hands sliding lower and lower, sliding beneath Blaine's boxers…

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Someone was at the door.

The guard silently swore, a hand wrapping around Blaine's mouth. "Make a sound and you die, you little fuck." He whispered, his other hand frozen just under his boxers.

"Open this fucking door." Said a voice from the other side. "I know you're in there, Morison, I saw you go in with a convict."

Blaine's heart leapt, he was saved! His legs almost went weak with relief. The guard swore again, but reluctantly let Blaine go. Blaine sank to the floor, sobbing silently with sweet relief. The guard glared down at Blaine, "didn't want to fuck you anyway… ugly piece of shit." He said, before spitting at him. He opened the door and froze, Blaine noticed his eyes were wide and his body was frozen in terror.

"Well, well, well…" that voice… Blaine swore he recognised it, "look what we have here. Family man, two kids and a well paying job in a broom closet with a pretty little convict. Did you get lost?" that voice… "Get the fuck out of my sight."

The guard nodded, glaring, "one of these days I'll get you, you little fuck." He spat, and exited.

Blaine looked up just as his saviour entered the room. "Hello Blaine." He smirked. It was Sebastian. "my, don't you look nice… I like those boxers…"

Blaine grabbed his jumpsuit, staring up in horror, "I… I… you…"

"Saved you?" Sebastian laughed, "I suppose you could say that. Or maybe… maybe… I was saving you all for myself." He kicked the door and it slammed shut. The panic, sickness and fear returned, swallowing Blaine whole. Sebastian approached him, his smirk sickening. He fell to his knees, straddling Blaine. Blaine could only stare up at him, pleading with his eyes. Sebastian's hands grabbed the collar of Blaine's jumpsuit, yanking him up so their noses touched. "Now, listen up." He whispered, "I saved you from having your sweet ass destroyed by that guards monster cock. And believe me… his cock… its fucking monster. You know what that means? You're mine… you're in my dept. Which means at any point, wherever I want and whatever I want, you have to do it. Understand?"

Blaine's chest tightened, but he managed a tiny nod.

"Good boy…" Sebastian paused, his eyes trailing down Blaine's almost naked body. He smirked, "although…" he growled, closing the distance and pressing his lips to Blaine's, softly, almost tenderly. Blaine shut his eyes tightly, trying to block it out. The fact he was doing to so… so _lovingly_ made it all so much worse.

Suddenly, he pulled away, "nope… no, I'm going to save it. Besides, I already had a lovely blowjob today… from your pretty cellmate." He smirked. Blaine felt anger build up in his like bile, rage bubbling deep within him. "In this room… when he should be visiting his father." He smirked more, moaning softly, "it was… magical." He chuckled, "you're lucky I decided to follow you in here… well… I'll see you around, Anderson. And remember… _you're mine_…" He winked and stood up, giving Blaine's body one last glance before walking out, leaving Blaine to pull on his jumpsuit and walk out shakily.

"_A fresh, tight, virgin boy…"_

"_I was saving you all for myself…"_

"_Wherever I want and whatever I want, you have to do it…"_

"_Your pretty cellmate…"_

"_You're mine…"_

Blaine had barely taken a step before everything went dark.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Authors note: I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS HOW SORRY I AM I FEEL TERRIBLE! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH AND I SWEAR I WILL NEVER LEAVE IT THIS LONG AGAIN!**

"… _In the corridor…close calls… brought him as soon…"_

The dark fog in Blaine's eyes and mind was beginning to clear, he could hear voices but they seemed to be miles away. With all his might he opened his eyes the tiniest bit, blinding light flooding into them and forcing them shut. He groaned, feeling groggy and uncomfortable.

"Oh, sweet Jesus." He heard a sigh, "he's coming to." A hand grabbed his shoulder and shook it; it felt like an earthquake to Blaine. His eyes snapped open, the bright white world cleared and he found himself in what appeared to be the first aid room. "Kid, wake up! There we go! Thank fuck, he's alive."

Blaine turned to find a man next to him, accompanied by the prison's first aid team. He was dressed in a white shirt with black tie, his white hair perfectly styled and small beard neat. He looked like Coronal Sanders. "Wh… wha-"

"Welcome back, kid. Jesus, gave us a right fright ya did. Scared ya weren't gunna wake up. The last thing this prison needs is word getting out that prisoners are dropping down dead in the corridors." The man laughed, clapping Blaine on the shoulder.

Blaine wasn't really taking anything in; everything was still a little hazy. He felt dizzy, like he'd throw up if he moved too much.

"What the hell were ya doing by yourself, kid?" The man asked, "Why weren't ya outside?"

Suddenly everything came flooding back to Blaine. His almost kiss with Kurt after telling him he loved him. The guard forcing himself upon Blaine. Sebastian…

"Oh man, he's going pale." The man grabbed a cardboard bowl and thrust it into Blaine's hands, just in time. Blaine's stomach heaved and vomit splashed into the bowl, painful tears stung his eyes.

"Think ya must have hit your head, kid. Now, what were ya doing down there?" The man asked, patting Blaine on the back.

"I… I got lost."

"Why weren't ya outside? It's a gorgeous day."

"I sunburn easily." Lied Blaine.

"Thought you'd go on a treasure hunt then?" the man laughed, before turning to one of the staff, "I'd like to have a word with him in my office, if that's okay?"

"W-well…" a women with a tight brown pony stammered, "we'd like to… just make sure he-"

"Nonsense! He's as fit and healthy as he's ever gunna be!" The guard pulled Blaine to his feet, setting the bowl aside. "Come on, kid. Need to have a word with ya."

Blaine found himself being steered out the room and down the hall. They reached a door which read 'Chief Warden, M. Wilson'.

The man, who Blaine assumed was the Chief Warden, steered Blaine inside and sat him down in a chair in front of a large desk. The room was pretty small; the desk took up most of it. There were picture frames containing photos of a pretty woman with smiling children in various destinations. Other then those, a computer, phone and notebooks, the room was almost empty. As the Warden sat across from him, Blaine suddenly felt confused and worried. In all the movies he'd ever seen the Chief Warden only spoke to you in private when you were screwed or expected to be a snitch.

The Warden sighed, lighting a pipe as he spoke, "… do ya know what I see when I walk these halls?"

Blaine stared at him, not sure if the question was rhetorical or just vague.

"Do ya?"

"E-erm… no, sir."

"Sir, huh?" The Warden looked amused, "Ya got manners." He took a puff from his pipe. "When I look down these halls, I don't see… criminals or convicts. I see men." He sighed, "Men… men who made _terrible_ choices… _awful_ mistakes. Men who fell into the wrong crowd or wondered down the wrong path. Now they're paying the ultimate price. Sometimes… I don't see men at all. Just scared, lost little boys." He shook his head, his eyes sad and… tired. "I like to tell myself that they can all change. Nobody is a lost cause. They say ya can't teach an old dog new tricks, but these aren't dogs. They're men. Most before their prime. But… once they're here they realize they can't attack society anymore. So they attack each other, their fellow men in prison." He put down the pipe, leaning forward and stared into Blaine's eyes, "now, kid… what really happened? Who got ya?"

Blaine stared back, unable to avoid his gaze. He couldn't tell him. He couldn't be the guy who snitched on a guard. He knew word would get out… Sebastian would make sure of it. He'd destroy him. "… No one. I… I just got lost and… the heat made me pass out, I guess."

The Warden's gaze didn't waver, "you were found in a corridor only accessible to Guards… you'd need a key to get in."

Blaine's heard began to pound faster, but he kept his cool. "It was open, sir."

"Hmm…" the Warden sighed, he looked… disappointed. "… Very well. I will take your word for it. Look… I can tell you're a good kid. You've made bad choices, but there's good in ya. It's burning in you, like a flame. I've watched it be extinguished in countless men… _please_… don't let yours go out." He sighed and stood up, pacing the room slowly, "You know… most flames go out because the men are alone. They have nothing to live for… nobody to go home to. They're empty. But you…" he stopped moving, "if by the end of your sentence, I can still sense the flame within you… well, I can die a happy old man." He smiled a little, eyes scanning the pictures, "… that's my wife, Kendra, and my beautiful children, Sophie, Tom and little Max." he smiled fondly, "I love them so… but… my wife…" he sighed, "… cancer. Took her life shortly after Max was born…" his smile faded, his eyes seemed to glaze over, "I miss her… everyday… God, she hated me working here. She always told me that she would pray every morning 'God… let him come home safe'… course I always did. I work with dangerous men every day of my life… but she was the one who went first. She'll never meet her grandchildren… Sophie wants to be an actress… She wasn't even here for Max's first steps." His gaze dropped, the room became still and uncomfortable quiet. Blaine felt uneasy, not sure if he was supposed to respond. The Warden's head suddenly snapped up, like he'd just woken up from a dream, "Hmm, what? Oh, still there are you? Oh, don't mind me… I'm an old man and I tend to go off every now and then." He laughed, moving over to open the door, "You can go back to your cell, best to get some rest."

Blaine stared up at him, utterly bewildered. He awkwardly rose from his chair and showed himself out, feeling very cold and empty.

Luckily his mind was taken off the uncomfortable conversation with the Warden, as the second he arrived in his cell Kurt's arms were flung around his neck.

Lost in a sea of endorphins, he wrapped his arms tightly around Kurt's tiny waist, swaying gently as he kissed him.

Blaine wasn't sure at what point they ended up on the bed, but that's where they were when he broke the kiss (reluctantly). "No… n-no… Kurt… no…"

Kurt looked both surprised and scared, "W-what? Did I do something wrong?"

Blaine chuckled in spite of a funny unfunny situation, "No, you were… you are incredible. But this is bad."

"How can this-" Blaine saw the realization in Kurt's eyes, "Oh…"

Blaine sighed deeply, pulling Kurt to him and holding the boy to his chest, burying his nose within Kurt's feather soft hair, "I love you so much, Kurt… more then my own life… so… you must understand."

The body in his arms trembled, "B-but… no, _it's not fair_…" he heard him sob, "I love you too… I love you… _I love you_!"

Blaine hushed him gently, "I know you do…" he tried to stop his voice cracking, "but you know why." Blaine rubbed his back as the trembling increased, "I love you too much to risk it."

Neither of them said it, they didn't have the heart to say his name. But they both knew… they'd always known.

Sebastian would kill them both.


End file.
